


Standing on the Widow's Walk

by ButDidYouDieTho



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, F/F, Longing, Mourning, some strange cross between
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 14:44:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10515852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButDidYouDieTho/pseuds/ButDidYouDieTho
Summary: What happens when you fall in love with a ghost





	

Another young patient lost, another bottle of cheap wine waiting for Angela as she slumped through the door of her tiny, grubby London apartment. Boxes of clothes and papers and equipment still littered the place, still packed and unopened after so many months in the city. It was an awful hassle to navigate around them and an even worse eyesore, but what could she do? This was no proper home and it never would be — merely a place to sleep between shifts at St. Barts. She hadn't even intended to stay this long, but the smoke and the hum and the fog of London's older districts were somehow the only things that had managed to keep her nightmares at bay for any length of time.

Another empty bottle, another surreptitious cigarette in the ashtray on the windowsill lay behind her as she finally slumped into bed. She wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to hit something until her knuckles bled, but she was just so, so tired, too tired for anything besides staring at the bare wall begging for sleep to take her away to better, brighter times.

Just as she was starting to consider sedatives, she felt a brief chilly breeze from the closed window and an even colder figure slipping silently, gracefully, into bed behind her. At last, Angela felt the tension start to leave both body and mind.

"I could have sworn I was still awake," Angela murmured, blinking slowly.

"Non, you drank too much and you're already dreaming," the ghost said, failing once again to fully conceal the French accent.

"You haven't visited in the longest time. I worried you weren't coming back."

Angela felt a slender arm wrap around her waist, and she instinctively snuggled back against the figure. "Never."

"Is it because of what happened today? You must have heard me praying."

"Of course," came the low reply after a long moment of silence. "But I thought you were the angel here?"

Angela smiled, almost laughed, for the first time in weeks. "I am no angel. The wings are just for show. You understand."

"But _I_ really am a ghost, Angela."

The smile faded quickly from Angela's face. "I know," she said, reaching back and tangling her fingers in dark, flowing hair. "How long can you stay?"

"A few hours."

"Don't go," Angela whispered and rolled over to kiss taut blue lips, her eyes still shut tight.

"You have to wake up eventually."

"I'll retire. We can go somewhere warm, somewhere far away in the middle of nowhere."

"We've been over this. I can't. They have to continue believing I'm still loyal."

"Please, Amé—"

"Don't." Angela dared to half-open her eyes, only for Amélie to gently kiss her eyelids shut again. "That Amari girl once fancied you, non? Or the third-floor accountant you spoke of, too, the one who--"

"—who made it a point to mention her favorite wine is Swiss, also."

"Ask her to dinner, she will say yes. Smile. Make small talk. Let yourself be _human_. You can't keep putting your life on hold waiting for a dead woman."

Angela bit her lip, desperately choking down the bitter urge to argue. "Keep me warm for tonight, then."

Amélie scoffed at the phrasing, but offered no protest.

**Author's Note:**

> Listen it's only a bit on-the-nose if you know me super personally okay, don't look at me like that


End file.
